X-Men: Days of WTF
by NotMarge
Summary: All's been relatively quiet in Xavier Manor, just the way Hank McCoy prefers it. But that's all about to change. Rehashing of X-Men Apocalypse. Hank POV.
1. X-Men: Days of WTF

I do not own X-Men Apocalypse.

But I'm giving this a whirl.

X-Men: Age of WTF.

* * *

It was a decently good day.

One of the better ones.

Hank taught his class. Answered questions. Guided learning.

He was even able to look people in the eye as he did so.

Think relatively positive thoughts about them.

Perhaps even smile in a way that didn't feel like his face would shatter.

The sun didn't seem so false, the company of other people didn't seem so mockingly cruel.

It was a good day.

And he should have suspected something.

He should have known better.

That when everything seems to be going your way, often times that's because you just might be about to unsuspectingly drive right off a cliff.

But Hank McCoy never saw it coming.

* * *

It started out simply enough.

With the appearance of two sudden guests standing watching the ebb and flow of students and teachers from class to class.

Hank was coming down the staircase, minding his very own business in the world as it was.

And there they were.

Two previously unforseen mutants.

Standing there.

 _We really need to start implementing some security measures around here._

Just standing.

 _They could have been anybody just walking in and standing i_ _n our foyer._

Right in the foyer.

Watching a decidedly huffy Jean Grey excuse herself from their presence.

 _Making friends, everywhere you go. Just making friends._

But Hank was glad to see him nevertheless.

"Alex Summers?"

"Hank McCoy!"

 _We should at least install a doorbell or something._

Alex had gone off awhile back, supposedly, to check on his family.

Problems with his brother or something.

And he had stayed gone.

Long enough for his army crew cut to grow out into a fashionable mane that might have looked out of place in any other decade.

 _Still pretty, I see. And haven't aged a day in appearance. How is that possible?_

"This is my brother, Scott."

An unassuming and commonplace person, save for the wrappings around his eyes.

 _Ooh, a new specimen! Ahem, young mutant in need of guidance, I mean._

He thought he had seen quite a variety of manifested powers since the reopening of the school.

And was already curious about this one.

But Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters was first and foremost, a welcoming place.

For all kinds of mutants. With all kinds of abilities.

So he introduced himself.

"I'm Hank. I'm a teacher here."

 _I'm also a genius and sometimes blue and furry, but we'll get to that._

Scott didn't seem quite as verbose as his elder sibling.

"Mmm."

 _Okay, then._

But then again, many students came to the school cagey and squirrelly and withdrawn.

It seemed to come with the territory

 _I remember what that felt like._

 _"How incredible, another mutant!"_

He still remembered the sting of being mercilessly outted in one fell swoop . . .

 _Charles, you ass._

. . . in front of a whole group of people who didn't know him from a hole in the ground.

And Mr. Oliver.

And decided to cut the kid some slack.

As Alex took over.

"Do you know where the professor is?"

 _Yes, of course I do. Where else would he be? Holding court._

* * *

And he was.

Teaching, actually.

And he was quite good at it.

Philosophy, literature.

All the stuff that was too open-ended for Hank's preferences.

". . . think the author meant when he wrote all that?"

Though Hank wondered how he managed not to get dizzy slowly spinning around and around in that wheelchair.

Charles' face visibly lit up as he caught sight of Hank escorting the semi-newcomers and Hank almost smiled.

 _Hey, Chuck, guess who I found!_

Then he remembered Hope had affectionately, and once not so affectionately, called Charles 'Chuck' from time to time.

And stoically pushed that rising well of emotion right back down into the pit of his stomach.

As Charles dismissed his charges.

And Alex made introductions yet again.

"This is my brother, Scott."

And Charles Xavier warmly pronounced some of his favorite words in all of the English language.

"Hello, Scott. Welcome to the School for the Gifted."

 _He just loves to say that._

But Hank didn't really mind.

Charles had come so far, fought back from so much, that he deserved to have some pride over what he had brought about.

A quiet, relatively, peaceful, relatively, sanctuary for children and young adults with powers the ordinary world was not yet prepared to understand and accept.

They welcomed them, taught them.

Trained them to control their powers so they wouldn't have to be afraid.

So they could choose how to live their own lives.

And it worked.

For almost ten years it had worked.

And now they would do the same thing for Scott.

And Hank was just glad he could say he was a part of it.

And that he wished Hope could still be part of it as well.

All these things he was thinking as the blindfolded Scott . . .

"It doesn't feel like much of a gift."

. . . echoed the feelings of so many that had come before him . . .

"They never do at first."

. . . and got his reassurance from the professor himself.

* * *

 **Hello!**

 **Okay, this movie screwed up a bunch of my fanfiction and so I'm trying to intermingle my storylines with it.**

 **Comes with the fanfic territory, I guess.**

 **And yes, my OC Hope exists here as well. Or rather, the memory of her. Because she was, and still is, good for Hank.**

 **Anyway, if you're willing to give this story a try, I'll be willing to do my best and appreciate your time.**

 **Everybody appreciates feedback.**

 **Leave a review if you like.**


	2. Flaming Foliage

I do not own X-Men Apocalypse.

But I'm giving this a whirl.

X-Men: Age of WTF

Contingencies Against Future Flaming Foliage

* * *

A hundred years of withstanding the brutal elements of nature.

Hank believed it had even been struck by lightening once or twice in its youth.

And so, it was hale and hearty and proud.

Before Scott Summers, at the behest of the Lord of the Manor, had removed his bandages. And opened his eyes.

And now, well, the towering oak had been brought low in a matter of seconds.

Along with part of the lawn, the archery target, a host of dead fish in the lake.

And of course, the shellshocked mutants standing aghast at the chaos wrought upon their safe haven in a matter of a few seconds.

By Scott Summers.

And his optic laser beams.

Or something like that.

Hank would require further study.

 _Much_ further study.

 _Well, Ring of Fire, he's got you beat._

Even Charles seemed taken aback.

He had been quite confident.

This type of test was his bread and butter, so to speak.

"It's alright, Scott. Open your eyes. I assure you, it's quite-"

In the aftermath of blast, they all attempted an air of nonchalant coolheadedness.

And failed poorly.

The flames flickering within the tree and the steam rising off the lake did look pretty cool.

 _As you were saying, Charles?_

The gouged lawn did not.

"My grandfather planted that tree when he was five years old."

 _That's not going to make him feel any better._

"I used to swing from it as a kid."

At this comment, The Xavier Family Decidious Heirloom split apart, reverberations thrumming through their feet as it unceremoniously crashed to the ground.

Charles Xavier's response was tinged with only the slightest of regrets.

"I think that was my favorite tree."

The newly rebandaged Scott sounded as if he was forcing him not to care. As if he was used to ruining everything around him.

"So am I expelled now?"

 _Well, technically you can't be expelled from a school you haven't been enrolled in yet._

But Charles Xavier was nothing if not gracious. And greatly impressed.

"No, not at all. You're enrolled."

 _Okay, now you can._

* * *

"So you think you can help him?"

They were in Hank's lab, Alex perusing Hank's carefully organized laboratory equipment.

Perusing, not touching.

It had taken a few years to mellow him out.

A few years and a few tragedies.

But now there was a mutual respect. A mutual trust between them.

So Alex looked. And talked

But did not touch.

Hank nodded.

"Yeah, yeah, I think maybe . . . a pair of glasses . . ."

Alex scoffed.

" _Glasses_ , Hank? Did you see-"

"The tree? Yeah, I saw the tree."

Alex tilted his carefully coiffed blond head, doubtful.

Worried for his much younger . . .

"Yeah, apparently Mom and Dad had some extra time on their hands when I ran off with you guys."

. . . brother.

Finally . . .

"Okay, McCoy. I trust you."

Hank smiled.

A little.

And wondered what it would be like to have a brother who cared about him like that.

"And thanks in advance."

They shook on it.

"No problem."

* * *

Late evening was when Hank McCoy was at his most productive.

After the general hoopla of the students and daily life settled down.

And everything got still and quiet around him.

He felt he could finally think clearly.

Work in a more focused manner.

And so he often worked late into the night in his lab.

Taking comfort in single-mindedness of science. Its all-consuming nature.

It was just as well.

He was moving on, living life as best he could.

And with Hope gone, he didn't sleep as soundly as he once had anyway.

There was an empty space, a void, in their bed where she used to lay.

Too much silence, no longer broken by her quiet breathing and occasional adorable snores.

And the warmth was gone. The bed was colder now.

And he always woke up alone.

So Hank didn't relish night as he had once done, eager to curl up next to the warm, inviting body of his loving lady.

Instead he stayed up late with the cold, uncaring entity of science.

And sometimes, the ghosts of the past.

* * *

He was working along, tinkering diligently on the Scott's specialized eye wear.

When he felt it.

Not exactly with any of his basic five senses . . .

 _Grrr. . ._

. . . but with the Beast.

And perhaps because he had spoken to him that day for the first time in quite a while, he instantly heard the dry tones of Alex Summers.

 _What'd you blow up now, Bigfoot?_

 _Nothing. I don't usually blow things up, Ring of Fire._

 _Sure, if you say so._

Oftentimes, when he heard a voice from the past . . .

 _Hey, sweetie. Whatcha sciencing now?_

. . . it was his beloved Hope.

But anytime he screwed up, if it wasn't Beast . . .

 _Grrr . . ._

 _No, I did not_ mean _to melt the beaker, Beast, thank you very much._

. . . it was Alex.

 _Way to go, Bigfoot. I'm sure those eyebrows'll grow right back in no time._

 _Shut up._

But this time it wasn't his inner voices.

He kept track of many different patterns and occurrences of the Earth he inhabited.

And right now, one of his meters was blinking red and issuing a low grade alarm set at a frequency only his Beast ears could easily pick up.

 _What?_

It was an energy surge.

Not on the power grid or anything related to the basic workings of man.

But something . . . other.

He reached over and grabbed the ticking ream from the side of the machine.

Deciphering the scratchings easily as one would read the newspaper.

 _What the . . ._

It was powerful. Very powerful.

And not emanating, as powerful energy surges usually did, from anyone within the mansion.

Not even Jean Grey, the young mutant girl Hank suspected might possibly rival Charles Xavier's telekinetic and pathic abilites.

He skimmed the lines of code again, double checking his math.

No, this came from much further.

Nearly halfway around the world.

Cairo, Egypt, to be exact.

That was very concerning.

So many unknown things still hidden in the sands of the desert out there.

And Hank glanced at the clock.

He was debating calling on Charles, even at this late an hour.

When another, more direct, surge shook the Manor itself.

One he had felt before.

And he dropped the paper and made straight for the door.

 _Okay, now_ that's _Jean._

* * *

 **Obviously the second and third and fourth parts here of my own creation. Hope you enjoyed!**

 **Thanks to brigid1318 and Suzanne for your gracious reviews!**

 **Thanks also to CapitalClassShip for adding your support to this story.**


	3. Mind Control

I do not own X-Men Apocalypse.

But I'm giving this a whirl.

X-Men: Age of WTF

Mind Control

* * *

Life wasn't perfect at Xavier Manor.

As much as they dedicated themselves to helping their charges learn to control their powers, it was always a work in progress.

And the most dangerous powers were often the most uncontrollable.

Jean Elaine Grey was a prime example.

A beautiful, gentle, young woman with green eyes and flaming red hair.

And the power of a god within the recesses of her mind.

Telekinesis. Telepathy.

Science only knew what other as of yet untapped abilities.

She was learning, getting better.

Wanted to be better.

And Charles seemed to have helped her greatly.

But sometimes, occasionally in the dead of night, her powers manifested through her dreams.

Wrought chaos upon the manor.

And fear upon the mutants within.

The walls would shake.

The foundation would groan.

As the girl herself lay trapped in a dreamscape of horror and destruction.

Such was one of these nights.

Hank had made it to her floor in record time.

Painting rattled upon the walls, the floor trembled.

Tinkling of falling and breaking fragiles could be heard through the open doors of some of the rooms.

Pajama-clad boys and girls all standing in the hall, peering fearfully toward her room.

"She's doing it again, " one of them murmured in a mixture of fear and fascination.

Hank moved past them, a responsible adult. . .

"Stay here, it's okay."

. . . through a sea of frightened younglings.

He did not dare go in though.

But instead acted as bodyguard in front of Jean's door until Charles rolled himself down the hall soon thereafter.

Gently and calmly sending the frightened children back to bed.

Until he reached threshold.

Hank opened the door carefully, his concern mirroring the telepath's.

"I've never seen it like this," Hank murmured quietly.

As waves of heat buffeted their faces as it exited the darkened space.

"Nor I," Charles agreed, grim-faced. "Don't let the children come this way."

 _Well, obviously._

Hank left the door open.

For light. For support.

To stand vigil.

This new development concerned him, not only for Jean and himself and the children.

But also for Charles.

Charles was an incredibly powerful telepath.

He could reach into anyone's mind and exert influence.

But, if he could do that, couldn't it go the other way?

Opening his mind up to someone would conceivably make him vulnerable.

Vulnerable enough to be hurt? Damaged?

Though he didn't know exactly what he could do were such an occasion to arise, Hank McCoy remained steadfast in his readiness.

Jean was moaning and thrashing in her bed.

And Charles, having opened his mind to hers, grimaced in pain.

Face strained.

And Hank watched with growing trepidation.

It had occurred to him more than once than two grown men watching a young girl asleep in her bed in the middle of the night might be creepy under normal circumstances.

 _But these aren't normal circumstances._

Jean jerked awake then and Charles gasped a sigh of relief.

As Hank noticed the half melted portraits in the walls and smelled the lingering stench of things that wanted to be flame in the room.

 _What was she dreaming?_

Jean's petulant voice and Charles' calm reassurings intermingled as he strove to understand and comfort the distraught mutant.

Dark power.

Growing.

Fire.

 _That doesn't sound good at all._

And Charles, speaking to her of his own trials and tribulations, the voices that had cried out to him.

Him unable to control them.

And Hank remembered.

 _"Hank, I can't sleep."_

 _"I don't want to control it, I want it to stop!"_

 _"Hank, please . . ."_

Hank McCoy clenched his jaw and listened on.

Listened as Charles Xavier strove to calm and comfort a child suffering and afraid.

And spoke words Hank McCoy hoped were true.

"You will learn to control your powers."

* * *

 _What if she can't?_

It wasn't that Hank didn't believe in the dedication of Charles Xavier, especially after all this time.

It wasn't that he didn't believe in the sincerity of Jean Grey to become a master of her powers.

It just wasn't always as easy as flicking a switch.

Life couldn't always be contained, commanded, controlled.

Sometimes, no matter one's efforts, things happened that were unexpected.

Unpredictable.

And unavoidable.

Jean Grey might learn to control her powers entirely and become unerringly stable.

 _But what if she doesn't?_

 _What if her power becomes too great and she loses control?_

 _With a power like hers, what could she do to the world? To the people within it?_

 _And what lengths would Charles go to were that to happen?_

Hank knew Charles Xavier blamed himself for a great many things that had come to pass carried the weight of his real and imagined sins with him all the time.

It was only only way to truly keep himself in check, to keep his power in perspective.

Hank worried for him, that one day it might all become too much.

And Charles would snap.

Turn against himself in a fit of grief and destruction.

Or even worse, turn upon others.

Consumed with insanity and retribution.

Hank didn't think that would happen; Xavier showed no impending signs of such a demise.

But the possibility of it was always there.

In the back of his mind.

Jean. Charles.

Charles. Jean.

Mutants able to affect their surroundings, worse yet the minds of others. Directly.

The mind, the one and only safe haven afforded to sentient beings.

The one place that was theirs and theirs alone.

The most private, hidden thing of all to invade.

And on nights when these chilling thoughts would not leave him, Hank did not find sleep easily.

* * *

 **I think I've** **mentioned it before but there is a cannon where Xavier loses hope and destroys the entire planet.**

 **So, yeah, Chuck, keep the faith, okay?**

 **Anyhow, thanks to brigid1318 and Muggleborn92 for reviewing!**


	4. Hello, Moira

I do not own X-Men Apocalypse.

But I'm giving this a whirl.

X-Men: Age of WTF

Hello, Moira

* * *

Cerebro.

Even after all this time, it was a thing of beauty to him.

Smooth, sleek.

Shiny.

Almost metallically reptilian in its perfection.

Hank McCoy soaked it in with pride for just a few seconds every time he was inside.

For maintenance or investigation.

Or inspiration for the Danger Room he dreamt of building.

The Danger Room he and Charles still clashed over.

"They are just children, Hank. They need to learn to control their powers, yes, but they should not use them against others."

"Charles, the world is a dangerous place for mutants-"

"Yes, I _know_ this, Hank. That's why we have the school."

"-and they need to be prepared to defend themselves if the situation arises."

"Hank, they have been through enough. Let them be children."

"Charles, the world is unstable. There may come a time-"

"Yes, there may, Hank. But I will _not_ turn innocent children into soldiers. Not until it is absolutely necessary. Please consider this discussion closed."

And that had been it.

For Charles.

Hank, on the other hand, had kept the topic on the back burner.

Drew up plans in his mind, lists of supplies.

And of course, more convincing arguements for the next go around.

As for now . . .

"Welcome, Professor."

. . . at the behest of Hank . . .

"I thought maybe you could take a look."

. . . they were going on a sort of psychic game of hide and seek.

To attempt to discover and evaulate the source of the energy spike.

Hank handed Charles the helmet.

"The source of the tremor came from Cairo."

And input the coordinates from his printout.

The gently swirling psychic visual display was, as always, somewhat discombobulating.

But Hank had gotten used to it over the years and instead focused in on the man himself.

Whose focus slowly evolved from a grim, determined single-mindedness.

"It's her."

To a soft, wistful longing.

"Who?"

 _Please not Mystique, please not Mystique, please not Mystique-_

"Moira."

 _Oh, relief. Wait, what?_

"Moira McTaggert?"

 _What's she doing in Cairo creating titanic energy surges?_

"Give me the details!"

 _Is a mummy after her?_

"She . . . she looks amazing. She's barely aged a day . . ."

 _Yeah, it seems to be a thing around here._

"No, I mean . . ."

 _Focus, you lovesick duck._

". . . what is she doing there? What does the CIA want with this?"

Charles seemed barely able to speak.

"She's going back to Langley to give her report."

But then continued speaking slowly, as if formulating his plan as he went along.

"I'm going there to see if she knows something about the tremor."

 _Why? Y_ _ou can just take the information from her mind. Ah yes, the respect of boundaries thing. And . . ._

"And you want to see Moira."

Charles seemed to be stubbornly ignoring Hank's pointed looks in favor of a semblence of rigid pragmatism.

"I'm going to check her out."

But he wasn't exactly as high minded as he was attempting to appear.

 _Heehee._

"Check out the _situation_ ," the somewhat abashed telepath amended.

 _Oh yes, very straightforward nobility, sure, Chuck._

"Moira McTaggert," Hank voiced, still pleasantly surprised by the turn of events.

 _Didn't see that coming._

 _Charles really lucked out here._

But he didn't harbor any ill will against his friend, not really.

 _A chance to be, even temporarily, reunited with one's longlost . . ._

 _Ahem, moving on._

"It's like a ghost from the past," Charles Xavier murmured, still mystified.

 _Yeah, those seem to be cropping up lately._

Neither of them had any idea.

* * *

Hank McCoy was looking forward to a good old-fashioned roadtrip.

 _Some Tab, maybe a package or two of Twinkies . . ._

Of a purely scientific nature, of course.

"I'd like to go with you, Charles."

Charles Xavier shook his head with finality, oblivious to Hank's eagerness.

"No, Hank. I'm taking Alex with me."

To which the formerly monkey-toed mutant furrowed his brow.

"But I want to ask her about the tremor, how long the CIA has been-"

Professor Xavier interrupted him.

"Hank, I need you here. You are better versed in the comings and goings of the school."

Charles' voice resonated in his head now.

 _"And in Jean, should another episode present itself."_

"I need you to stay here and assure all runs smoothly in my absence," he concluded aloud.

Hank sighed, excitement dashed in lieu of day to day responsibility.

 _Ugh, so I get to stay here like a good little watchdog and bark away the strangers._

But he really understood.

Alex grinned winningly, a little of his old snark coming back just for Hank's benefit.

"Don't worry, Bigfoot. I'll bring you back a souvenir."

Then he solemned as Charles Xavier rolled away to begin preparations.

"Seriously, though, I'll look after him. Make sure he doesn't get into too much trouble."

Hank nodded helplessly, grudgingly grateful to have another set of hands to watch over his friend and mentor.

As much as anyone could.

"And make sure he doesn't . . . you know . . . with Moira . . ."

Alex raised a knowing eyebrow.

"Get distracted and make an ass of himself? Yeah, no worries, man. I got it."

Hank smiled, genuinely this time.

"Thanks."

Alex nodded again.

"No problem."

* * *

Moira McTaggert.

With them from the beginning.

A very tenacious, very sincere, very earnest person of character.

Out to prove herself worthy of being one of the first female CIA agents.

Not because she was beautiful.

But because she was strong and smart.

And the best.

She wasn't there to be a pretty face.

Though she was.

And she wasn't there to flounce around.

Much to the disappointment of the young, self-assured 1963 Charles Xavier.

She was there to do her job. The best she could.

And Hank respected that.

She, of the weaker species of human, stood up to mutants with abilities she could not begin to fathom.

Going so far as to aim her gun and fire it at Erik Lensherr.

Who waved away her bullets with a flick of his hand.

One right into the back of her own friend, potential courter.

She had watched the dissolution of the first X-Men, witnessed its demise.

She had paced and paced the floor outside Charles' hospital room in emotional turmoil over her errant bullet.

And followed them back to the manor upon his release.

Tending to him every waking moment. Vigilant and gentle.

Until Charles had, with mental influence, made her leave.

For her own safety.

For theirs.

And though he had rarely spoken of it, Hank had known he had never forgotten her.

 _Moira McTaggert._

 _Wow._

* * *

 **Thanks to brigid1318 and her freedom! Thanks also to Muggleborn92 and your reviews!**


	5. Ruby Quartz Lenses

I do not own X-Men Apocalypse.

But I'm giving this a whirl.

X-Men: Age of WTF

Ruby Quartz Lenses (and Other Things That Are Red)

* * *

It took Hank a few days. Longer than he would have . . .

"Laura, please tell the other chemistry students that tomorrow's experiment is postponed-'

"What? No! You said we were gonna do a Briggs-Rauscher Reaction! You said it was really cool!"

"We'll do it next week-"

"Awww, Doctor McCoy . . ."

. . . preferred. But it was all but impossible to collect precise data on the boy's eye mechanisms.

Without removing them from his head.

 _And I am not a mad scientist._

 _Grrr . . ._

 _Okay, I am not_ that _mad of a scientist. Better?_

 _Grrr . . ._

And so there was some guesswork involved.

Somewhat restricted experimentation . . .

 _Alright, lasers calibrated . . . of course this doesn't completely take into account for living optic fluctuations but it'll have to do . . ._

But finally . . .

"The lenses are from some ruby quartz I had laying around."

. . . they were ready.

"They should be able to reflect your optic beams and keep them contained within their own vector fields."

"Yeah, yeah, so I can open my eyes without killing anybody," replied Scott drily.

 _Ideally, that would be great._

"Hopefully."

He was pretty sure.

"Try them on."

Most likely.

"Oh wait, hang on."

Slight directional adjustment away from people.

Just in case.

"Okay. Go ahead."

The sun was shining, the birds were chirping.

And Hank McCoy and Scott Summers were about to put all their faith . . .

 _Scientific faith._

. . . into molded plastic.

And ruby quartz.

And even though Hank was confident in his abilities and craftsmanship . . .

 _Ooh, I love science, I love science, I love science-_

. . . his adrenaline started racing with excitement.

As Scott Summers carefully slipped on and adjusted his modified Ray-Bans.

Standing absolutely still.

Hank couldn't quite tell if he had opened his eyes yet.

But nothing had burst into flames so . . .

"Whoa . . ."

It was more of an awed whisper than a statement.

"I can _see_."

The boy's relief was so painfully clear Hank caught a glimpse of the crippling fear and misery he had been enduring.

"Thank you, Professor . . ."

 _I'm not a professor . . ._

"Thank you so much! You're a genius . . ."

 _Well, yes, I am actually that-_

And suddenly, though his mouth began running . . .

"No, I'm not . . ."

. . . his brain stopped and thought of Hope.

How proud she would have been of him.

And how she would have used this very opportunity . . .

 _See . . ._

. . . to remind him that he and the quiet life he had chosen were making a difference.

 _. . . to those who need you here, Hank._

And through his own bittersweet longing, saw Scott Summers discover Jean Grey for the very first time.

Jean Grey, alone. Sitting against one of the stout oaks Scott had _not_ decimated with his optic beams.

Green leaves and green grass the perfect backdrop for her fiery red hair.

Pale slender frame.

And clear green eyes.

Because he had designed them, Hank knew Scott could only see Jean (and everything else he viewed) through a dull, reddish hue.

But a creature such as Jean Grey was stunning in any spectrum.

To anyone with any kind of eyes.

"Whoa . . . who is that?"

"Jean Grey. I believe you already met. You bumped into her when you arrived."

 _Literally. Smooth move, by the way._

"That's _her_?"

And this time, he had to smile.

At least for the moment.

Because . . .

"Dr. McCoy?"

Jubilation Lee, adorned in brightly colored arraignment to fit her brightly colored energy plasmoids.

And personality.

Had just arrived, bearing news.

"There's someone at the front door."

 _Oh, it's not Logan the Facing-Punching Wolverine again, is it?_

"She says she knows you."

 _She? Okay, so not Logan. Cool._

He nodded at the bright-eyed, teenage mutant.

Then, prefunctionarily turned back to the still enraptured Scott.

"I, uh . . . keep those on, okay?"

 _Unless of course we're attacked with some Earth-shattering apocalypse. Then you can go for it._

And turned back to Jubilee.

"Where is she?"

The girl started walking in the direction of the main building and Hank fell in step with her.

"She's still in the foyer." She hesitated. "Is that okay?"

Hank smiled reassuringly.

"Yeah, that's fine."

Now it was his turn to hesitate as he squinted up into the sun.

And then let the question go.

"Is she . . . blue?"

Jubilee gave him a funny look.

"No, she's . . . human colored."

Hank nodded, breathing easier.

 _Not Mystique then. Relief._

* * *

The busy Hank filtered in and out of the loops of students, vaguely aware of their real and imagined dramas.

Without really knowing that his gift of sight to Scott Summers had caused a massive shift in the dynamics of at least two students in the school.

Jean Grey now had an ally and, though she didn't require it, thank you so very much, a champion.

Because Scott, with his super cool shades, courtesy of Hank McCoy, Super Genius, was feeling alive again.

And over the next few days of calm before the storm, became a new person.

Openly smiling (usually at Jean) and talking with other students (usually Jean).

Making jokes (usually for the benefit of Jean) and challenging other members of the house (including Jean) to Foosball games in the rec room.

The fact that the other kids seemed to both openly and discreetly avoid the object of his affection didn't seem to faze Scott at all.

"So you're smarter, hotter, and more powerful than them," he'd shrug nonchalantly. "Not your fault they're idiots."

She tried to hide it as well as she could. Her pretty blushes, her shy smiles.

But one would have to be blind, deaf, and basically dead not to notice that Scott's casual adoration for Jean and Jean's tentative step out of the metamorphical shadows was one of the more miraculous things taking places within the walls of Xavier Manor.

* * *

Along with of course, the manifestation of powers no mortal man dare even dream of.

And the relative peace . . .

"Ow! Let go of my tail!"

"Sorry, I thought it was a pullstring."

"For what?!"

"Your butt."

"Shut up!"

"Hey, you guys made that rhyme!"

"Alright, break it up you guys, and go to class."

"Nice work, Doctor McCoy."

"Thanks."

"So, is it always like this around here?"

"Sometimes. Sometimes it's worse. But we have a very comprehensive insurance plan."

"Oh. Okay."

. . . that reigned in a boarding school full of self-proclaimed . . .

"Yeah? Well, I'm a freak that could kick your ass any day! Without my powers!"

"Guys . . ."

"Alright, alright, I'm going . . ."

. . . freaks of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters.

* * *

 **Jubilee notifying Hank of Raven's presence (though he doesn't know it's her yet) is partially an extended scene courtesy of Muggleborn92! Thanks, sweetie!**

 **But these kids aren't just extras out of focus behind the leads. Or ex-machinas for the sake of the plot.**

 **At least not to me.**

 **And since much of the story takes place outside the Manor, I thought we'd spend some time with them first.**

 **Before the you-know-what hits the fan.**

 **'Cause it's gonna.**

 **Soon.**

 **Thanks to brigid1318 and Muggleborn92 for awesomely reviewing. :)**


	6. And Now There's You

I do not own X-Men Apocalypse.

But I'm giving this a whirl.

X-Men: Age of WTF

And Now There's You

* * *

Life changing events seemed to happen to Hank McCoy least expected it.

The day Mr. Oliver introduced him to Charles Xavier and his small entourage of mutants.

Most of which were now dead or missing in action.

The day Charles caught an errant bullet in the back and Raven abandoned the only family she ever had.

To run off with Erik Lensherr.

The day Logan the Wolverine had shown up on his doorstep, punched him in the face, and dragged both he and Charles into the harsh light of day.

The day he had watched his beloved Hope lowered into the dark earth.

All the days he tried not to think about.

The days that caused him pain.

Heartache.

And of course, on occasion, such unrelenting shame.

 _I was such a fool . . ._

 _Let it go, let it go, move on . . ._

 _Grrr . . ._

 _Yeah, Beast, I know, I'm trying._

He was still trudging through the quagmire of his life.

Every single day he had to decide to get up and keep going.

And it wasn't about to get any easier.

Because as he, metaphorically and literally continued to move against the tide of life, (and mutant students trying to get to various classes), he found her.

Raven.

Mystique.

Whatever.

Standing in the foyer of Xavier's Manor.

Gazing around at a place Hank accurately supposed hadn't changed much since she had lived there as a child.

He saw her before she saw him.

And a jumble of thoughts flooded his mind.

 _Hey, you're not dead-_

 _Charles is going to freak out-_

 _What the hell-_

 _Hope, Hope, where are you, Hope-_

"Raven."

She turned and looked at him and her face registered no suprise at all.

Why would it? Why would Hank McCoy, super genius and bespectacled hermit crab of Xavier Manor be anywhere else other than where he was?

 _Yes, Raven, I have been circling this foyer for ten years, every minute, just waiting for you to grace us again with your presence, my life never moved on, I never fell in love with the woman of my dreams, grew as a person, entertained any ambitions other than waiting every second for your ret-_

 _Grrr . . ._

 _I am perfectly calm, Beast. I have no emotions or reactions other than the ones I choose to have, okay?_

As his brain was rambling, so was his mouth apparently.

"Wow . . . I . . . um . . . you're . . ."

His face was smiling, he wanted to hug her. He wanted to slap her.

He wanted a minute to breathe.

But Raven, Mystique, whatever, was just as closed off as ever.

Her affect was flat.

Or rather, cynically flat.

As if she wished she was anywhere other than where she was.

With who she was with.

"Not blue anymore?"

Yes, he _had_ noticed. Her form. Human. The one he had first seen her in, tried to force her to stay in.

And decked out in full on rock babe '80s.

"Yeah, seems like we have that in common now."

And with that calmly, quietly, bitingly . . .

 _How the hell are you judging me for looking human? You look human too!_

. . . it all came rushing back.

The beautiful, the ethereal, the judgemental, the wounded, the angry, the disenchanted, the coldhearted, the brutal Raven Darkholme.

Mystique.

Whatever.

And he immediately wished Jubilee had never found him on the lawn.

 _Knife to the chest, thank you, Raven._

He blinked his way through the pain, trying to think straight.

Still grinning and babbling like the bumbling fool he always had been around her.

Except when Hope was around.

 _Hope, Hope, where are you, Hope . . ._

She had been calm and strong.

While he, Hank, had been a useless, lost idiot.

 _Oh science, kill me now._

"No . . . I . . . mean . . ."

And suddenly he deeply and fully despised and resented Raven's presence in his life more than he could ever have imagined.

 _How do you always manage to do this to me? Twist me up in knots so I can't see straight or even know my own name? Why can't I ever get free of you?_

". . . you're back."

 _Why, why are you back, Raven? Why in the hell are you back?_

He gazed at her, feeling confused and feverish and completely lost.

"I never thought I'd see you here again."

 _You know, after the_ second _time you abandoned Charles helpless and in pain._

She nodded distantly.

"Yeah, me neither."

But she wasn't really talking about him anymore.

Or thinking about him . . .

 _Did she ever after I betrayed her trust about her blue form? For the love of science, that was twenty years ago . . ._

. . . but casting her gaze around the foyer. Barely giving him a second glance.

 _No, I don't really think she did. I think she just wrote me off. Forgot about me. Like I was never important at all._

And then, thankfully, before anything else stupid spilled out of his idiotically gaping maw, Hank McCoy was saved by . . .

"Hi! I'm blue! I'm Kurt!"

* * *

 **Okay, so Apocalypse screwed me over in more ways than one because it took Kurt (whom I had previously inserted into Xavier Manor as a child) and shoved him in a box for Mystique to rescue and bring to Xavier Manor.**

 **And I couldn't think my way out of it.**

 **So here he is and in my version, for lack of a better idea, saying 'hello' to Raven (his mother, ahem, ahem) and everybody can still have their same reactions (save for the handshake) because he's never seen her unblue and hasn't seen her since he was super little anyway.**

 **If that'll work for you guys.**

 **If not, you come up with a better plan, yeah? ;)**

 **Thanks to brigid1318, DinahRay, and Muggleborn92 for so kindly reviewing! Sweeties, you!**


	7. Civil Conversation

I do not own X-Men Apocalypse.

But I'm giving this a whirl.

X-Men: Age of WTF

Civil Conversation

* * *

He didn't know exactly why he took her to his lab after hastily excusing Kurt to class.

Except it was his safe haven, the place he was most comfortable.

Amid the cold accuracy of the science and technology.

That, in the last twenty years at least, had not changed.

As they walked, they talked.

Sort of.

"As you can see, Kurt is doing well," Hank offered. "The other students seem to like him and-"

"That's nice," Raven interrupted, in a tone that suggested she did not wish to pursue the current line of discussion.

But Hank continued on.

"He's, uh, very bright and seems eager-"

The mother of the nightcrawler abruptly stopped, looking everywhere but at the congenial man next to her.

"Hank, I really don't want to talk about this."

He furrowed his brow at her, confused.

"I just . . . I wanted . . . I thought you might like to know about your s-"

Raven shook her head.

"Well, I don't, Hank."

Her tone was harsh and final.

"He's not my son. Not anymore. I gave him to Charles. I can't . . ."

She exhaled sharply.

"I can't afford to have anybody I care about. It's not safe. And he's better off here. It's just . . . it's just better if we leave it at that."

She started walking again as Hank stared at her, aghast.

 _If I had a child, I would want to know everything. All the time._

Then his legs started moving and he caught up with her.

 _Maybe if she stays, I can get her to change her mind._

* * *

As the doors slid smoothly open and they entered the vast space, the floor and ceiling lights revealed Hank's most recent obsessions.

The jet was the most imposing, most impressive piece in the entire space.

Lowered to the panel lit floor for easy access, awaiting further maintenance and construction.

The sleek, black shell at least was complete.

It even impressed the unimpressable Raven.

"Wow."

Much as his first Blackbird had done.

 _Except I'm not your dancing monkey this time._

"It's hypersonic," Hank educated quite proudly. "Blast resistant. Stealth technology."

They walked together, the past, at least for Hank echoed in every breath, every nuance.

But he was holding it together.

"Impressive," she admitted.

He smiled and ducked his head, just for a second foolishly happy to hear such praise from her.

 _Well, yes, yes, it is. Thank you._

"How are you gonna get it out of here?"

 _Oh Raven, you never did trust me to plan for everything, did you?_

"Oh, well, I built a retractable roof in the basketball court."

 _I hate sports._

"Hank," Raven declared, as if they were sharing some sort of special secret and she was now seeing him in a new light. "You're building a _war_ plane down here."

 _Well, now, no, I didn't say that. It's a . . . Hypersonic Aerial Mutant Transportation System._

 _Okay, it's a warplane._

And he found himself confiding in her.

"After what happened in Washington, I thought we were going to come back here and start the X-Men. Like we always talked about."

Raven nodded, as if they were and always had been, two of a kind.

United against such silly frivolities as mutant peace and togetherness.

"Charles wants students not soldiers."

 _Exactly._

Which he really didn't mind so much.

A safe haven for mutant children who needed guidance and reassurance, sure. No problem.

But someone also had to be prepared to defend the defenseless.

What Hank had witnessed in Washington had terrified him, frightened him more than he could express.

The Sentinels, their purpose, their capabilities.

Erik Lensherr, power hungry and using delusions of the betterment of mutants as an excuse.

And the fact that, even though Raven had saved technically saved the president, so many humans still feared and distrusted mutants.

And so many mutants were still volitile and unpredictable.

The probability of another attack, possibly worse, was too high.

Bolivar Trask was gone, jailed somewhere far away from his science.

But there were others still out there just like him.

 _Well, maybe not just like him. He was very unique._

And Logan the Wolverine's apocalyptic future could still be ahead of them.

So, yes, Hank approved of the school itself.

"He thinks the best of people. He has hope."

 _And he needs it. Otherwise he might freak out and kill us all._

"And you?"

Raven was finally giving him all her laser-focused attention.

 _I don't have Hope. I lost mine. She died. I don't want to talk about it._

But that was too much, too personal. Instead, he spoke in generalities.

"I think we should hope for the best."

Speaking her name, even when it was the feeling and not the woman, still hurt. But he plowed on.

"And prepare for the worst."

Listening, Raven was really listening.

"I think the world needs the X-Men."

He surged then with bravery, with possibility.

"Now that you're back, maybe we can convince Charles-"

But, of course, Raven wasn't interested in his agenda. Not if it didn't match her own.

And she instantly drew away.

"Hank, I'm here about Erik."

And just like that, he welled up with disgust and betrayal and anger all over again.

 _Well, he's not here, Raven! But we all are. So thanks for giving a damn!_

"Erik, yeah, of course."

And he turned away from her, attempting to close off, shut down.

Just long enough to breathe.

"Of course-"

 _Grrr . . ._

 _I'm fine, Beast. Leave me alone!_

Raven's voice cut through his cataclysm of emotion, actually bordering on emotional.

"I think he might be in some sort of trouble. _Real_ trouble."

 _There's a shock._

And Hank could not stop himself.

"Isn't he always?"

 _I mean, honestly, for the love of science, Raven, why do you even care anymore after what he did to you? What he did to us?_

Of course, the other obvious question was, why did Hank, after all that had transpired, still care about what happened to Raven?

He looked at her and she stared him down just as directly as she had always done.

And finally . . .

 _Shit._

"Charles should be getting back from his meeting with Moira anytime now," Hank offered sullenly. "Would you like something to eat?"

Raven's flat affect had returned.

"No."

"Fine. We can wait for him in his study."

And they went.

* * *

 **Okay, so the conversation in the lab is a deleted scene with me adding the food part to the end.**

 **And the beginning is me again responding** **to Muggleborn92 inquiring as to Raven and Kurt's issue which is really the problem of the movie writers not addressing the fact that Kurt is actually Raven and Azazel's son, cannonically speaking.**

 **Anyway, I'm probably writing myself into a corner but hey, maybe the writers should bend to my fanfic every once in a while, huh? ;)**

 **Anyway, thanks to brigid1318, DinahRay, and Muggleborn92 for continuing to review. You all are great!**


	8. Breakdown

I do not own X-Men Apocalypse.

But I'm giving this a whirl.

X-Men: Age of WTF

Breakdown

* * *

 _Oh, thank science, a buffer._

 _Here, Charles, you talk to her._

Their remaining time together had been stiff and formal and uncomfortable as they sat and waited for the other remaining member of the Poor-Erik-We-Must-Run-To-His-Side-Immediately Club.

Raven had comported herself like a sphinx, seeming uncomfortable on the soft plush sofa in Charles' study.

Straight-faced and nearly mute.

With those dagger blue eyes of hers picking Hank apart, atom by atom.

And since she wasn't forthcoming with any real details about her life or anything else, he found himself, again, talking.

Rambling.

Yammering.

About the school. About the mutants here. About his work, his latest success with Scott Summers' glasses.

While Raven looked here and there, almost never at him.

And when she did, he found it difficult to remember his line of thinking.

He skipped over the tragedy of his Hope because he couldn't bear to reveal that part of himself to this strange creature who looked like Raven.

Yet wasn't.

When he paused or dared attempt to ask a question, she answered in monosyllabic responses.

He vacillated between wanting to make amends for everything between them and wanting to shake some sense into her.

But he held his tongue out of well trained civility.

Until Charles Xavier rolled into the room.

With Moira McTaggert and Alex in tow.

 _Oh boy, reunions all around around, great, listen, I'm about to have a stroke here-_

And Hank rose, feeling as though he were flailing about like the Scarecrow in The Wizard of Oz.

 _Hey, look, Dorothy's back, I mean, Raven._

And Moira.

Who was acting as though she had never laid eyes on them before.

 _Wow, Charles, you_ are _good. Twenty years?_

Charles, containing his own shock quite well for someone being faced unexpectedly with his long lost sister-not-sister, dismissed everyone but her . . .

 _Oh, thank science, I'm gonna go throw up now, I think._

. . . and Hank, for one, went gladly.

* * *

As soon as he left the study, he suddenly became very certain he was going to be physically ill.

And as soon as he was out of sight of everyone . . .

"Hank, you ok? You look green, not blue-"

"Yeah, Alex. I'm fine. If you'll excuse me."

. . . he ran to his quarters.

Slammed the door and locked it.

His stomach was churning acid, his skin quaking.

His face felt like it wasn't his own, a frozen wax creation.

 _Hope. Oh god._

He had swooned over Raven. Fell right into her trance all over again.

As if Hope had never mattered at all.

If she had never existed.

He had fawned, oh, he had _fawned_ at Raven's very feet, blue and scaly as they were. Hidden behind a cloak of costumed humanity.

He had told himself he was treating her congenially as a friend, as a colleague.

As simply a fellow mutant.

But everything inside and outside him had screamed _look at me, look at me, I'm here, look at me!_

And he was overwhelmed with guilt and anger and resentment.

 _She doesn't care about her own son, she doesn't care about me, she doesn't care about any of us._

And to make matters worse, she hadn't even cared enough to give him the time of day.

She had for all intents and purposes, ignored his existence as much as possible while still getting what she wanted.

An audience with Charles.

In fact, Hank was quite certain if someone else had happened upon her before him.

Taken her to Charles.

She would have had her time and left the manor without even so much as a how do you do.

And Hank would have been none the wiser.

That should have happened, that.

At least then he wouldn't have to face his own pathetic visceral reaction to her.

Hank McCoy dejectedly hung his head as he rested his arms against the freshly cleaned . . .

 _There's that at least, thank you, Ms. Hamford._

. . . toliet bowl, trying not to burst into tears of regret and humiliation and sorrow and guilt.

And rage and anger and self hatred.

 _Oh Hope, I don't deserve you, not even the memory of you, I'm sorry . . ._

He stayed that way for a long time, his stomach churning, the space behind his eyes throbbing.

And his heart aching so painfully it seemed it no longer wished to be a part of him.

But rather would rip and tear and claw its way out of his chest.

Leaving him a husk of a man.

Destroyed by his own shame and guilt.

It was not as bad as the misery he had suffered on the day Hope's life was crushed from her.

Or the day he watched the nurse turn off the machine and take out the breathing tube, leaving his wife to fade away from this world of her own accord.

Or even the day he had watched her casket be lowered into the ground.

Or all the days following, when he had struggled to find the courage, the determination, the purpose to rise from blessed unconsciousness and move into the world as it was without her.

But, in its own way, it was worse.

Because he had caused none of those things, had no hand in them.

But this, he had.

And to that end, he hated himself and everything about himself.

And wished he were dead.

Or at least never been born.

* * *

It passed. Slowly.

The gut wrenching pain and grief.

Leaving a charred, blackened smear on his soul, on his psyche.

But when Hank finally rose from the cold, hard tiles and left the lavatory, he was numb to feeling.

Completely drained.

Absolutely exhausted.

And resolved.

Resolved to not feel anything else during the time of Raven's presence in his life.

It was easier that way.

To not feel.

To just become mechanical.

A machine.

To say and do the right things.

And leave all emotion withering on the doorstep of his soul.

If he did that, he just might be able to draw a deep breath.

And look himself in the mirror again one day.

But today was not that day.

* * *

 **Hank's reaction here sounds very extreme, very Telenovela. But ask someone who has felt the stirrings of emotion for another after the death of a beloved spouse. The guilt is often extreme and overwhelming, like they're cheating even though the spouse is gone.**

 **He'll be okay. Maybe not immediately but he'll get there.**

 **In fact, near the end . . .**

 **Oops, spoilers! ;)**

 **Thanks to brigid1318 and Muggleborn92 for always so graciously reviewing!**


	9. All Hell

I do not own X-Men Apocalypse.

But I'm giving this a whirl.

X-Men: Age of WTF

All Hell

* * *

The voice arrived in his head without warning.

 _Hank, I need you to come with us to Cerebro._

Because Charles Xaiver, powerful telepath though he was, was not always the world's greatest empath.

 _Okay_.

A hesitation. Only slight. After all, time was of the essence.

 _Are you alright?_

And Hank McCoy was always alright.

 _Yes._

 _Grrr . . ._

 _Shut up, Beast._

 _Alright. Join us immediately, please._

* * *

"We need to find Erik."

 _Again? Can't you people take a hint?_

As Hank fell in line beside Charles, he once again found himself glancing over at Raven.

And seeing only the side of her head.

 _Oh, that's right, I don't exist._ _Excellent._

Then he remembered he wasn't giving a damn. And stuck with that.

They walked to Cerebro in silence, Hank listening to the quiet swish of the wheelchair tires rolling over the clean floor.

The rest of their entourage's . . .

 _Why is Alex here again? And Moira?_

. . . rthymic footsteps.

And sound of his own pounding heart.

Nobody spoke.

It was like a funeral procession.

Until they arrived . . .

"Welcome, Professor."

. . . inside the chamber.

* * *

Another typical day in Cerebro.

Silver-helmeted professor. Swirling lights.

Raven.

 _We were in here before once, looking for you. With Logan the Face-Punching Wolverine._

 _I prefer that._

 _Except for the whole Charles-whining-like-a-baby thing._

Moira. Alex.

 _Regular party in here, isn't it, Charles? I don't recall you having such a proclivity for so many people in Cerebro all at once._

All that was missing was Erik.

 _"What a lovely labrat you make, Charles."_

Though Hank suspected he would be along soon enough once Charles found him.

"Hello, old friend."

And he did.

Raven immediately perked up.

Hank surged with age old resentment and jealousy.

Remembered he didn't care.

And watched as Charles immediately grew forlorn and regretful.

Something about pain and loss.

 _Haven't we all, Erik? Get in line._

But it was concerning.

Erik Lensherr had a track record for extreme responses . . .

 _Grrr . . ._

 _Yes, I know turning blue and attacking humans is an extreme response, shut up . . ._

. . . and Hank had no doubt with the reintroduction of Raven back into their lives and Charles actively seeking out Erik, something bad was definitely going down.

And he was right.

"Hank, he's not alone."

And then all hell broke loose.

First, Cerebro's readings went off the charts.

Machinery whirring louder and louder.

The dread, the abject fear in Charles Xavier's voice.

"Oh my god."

The lights went crazy, bleeding out into cold metallic greying blue.

Hank lunged forward, frantically flipping dials and switches to no avail.

"Charles! Get out! You've got to get out!"

Begging Charles to disconnect.

Charles who seemed to be becoming hijacked, possessed.

"I've never felt power like this before."

And then witnessing the man's orbital sockets go jet black.

 _Oh shit._

Raven started shouting in Hank's ear and he was sure she was saying something important . . .

"Hank, you have to stop this!"

. . . and that he was shouting back . . .

"I can't stop it!"

. . . but all his focus was on stopping the entity taking over Charles Xavier's mind.

On shutting down Cerebro.

Reaching for the helmet.

 _Oh motherf-_

Only to be zapped with a powerful jolt of electricity.

Letting go, punching and ripping up the protective panel of Cerebro's central system.

Tearing at the wires.

Until, Charles, regaining just enough himself to cry out to . . .

"Alex! Destroy it! Destroy Cerebro!"

And the mutant Havoc did as he was bade.

By the desperate telepath fighting psychic possession.

The blast was huge and powerful.

Destroying everything in its path.

Alex screaming as he did so.

* * *

 _What where how . . . ugh . . ._

Hank was going to be sick.

The world was spinning, his equilibrium was gone, vertigo was threatening to crumble him to the ground.

And Xavier Manor was gone in an explosion of flame and debris.

The lawn was riddled with every young mutant Charles Xavier had flocked to him.

Along with Max the English Bulldog. And a goldfish in a makeshift bowl.

And Peter Maximoff was standing in the middle of it all.

 _Oh hey, it's you . . ._

Looking mildly impressed with the destructive display he had just rescued everyone from.

Baffled, bewildered, and slightly ill, Hank McCoy swayed on the spot.

They had dragged an unconscious Charles out of Cerebro only to have him ripped away by a dead eyed Magneto-moded Erik.

Three other glowering mutants.

And him.

The big blue . . .

 _What the hell, is_ everybody _blue now?_

. . . imposing figure wearing some sort of heavy armour.

Raven had moved first, shouting Charles' name.

Quickly overtaken by Alex, tearing after the wheelchair trapped man.

And Hank had felt a surge of dread . . .

 _No, not like the others, no-_

. . . and raced after him, shouting for his friend.

 _Nononononono-_

The menacing mutant kidnappers had stepped into some sort of teleportation hole with the captive Charles.

And disappeared as Alex opened fire.

And now he was standing woozily on the front lawn . . .

 _Where are my glasses?_

. . . with a naked, blue Raven . . .

 _Oh hello, again, oh please go away-_

. . . and a growing realization.

 _Alex, where's Alex . . ._

That everything had gone to hell very quickly.

* * *

Of course Raven didn't want to have anything to do with shellshocked mutant children that stared in open awe of her.

Hank tried weakly to explain to her.

"They look up to you."

 _They put pictures of you up around the manor. I don't look at them._

"Right now, they need you."

But Raven was Raven.

And she would not be moved.

"That's not what they need."

Hank didn't know what to say or do anymore.

 _Alright, you're so smart. What_ do _they need?_

But they never got to have that conversation.

Because the wayward Scott and friends showed up.

And Scott's brother, Alex, was still dead in a hole despite . . .

"Pretty sure I got everybody."

. . . the Quicksilver's best efforts.

* * *

 **Okay, so that went rather quickly but I hope you enjoyed anyway!**

 **As always, most gracious thanks to brigid1318 and Muggleborn92 for so loyally reviewing!**


	10. Prison Break

I do not own X-Men Apocalypse.

But I'm giving this a whirl.

X-Men: Age of WTF

Prison Break

* * *

 _I keep losing time._

He was on the floor.

With a migraine, a sore shoulder.

And a vague recollection of a helicopter and soldiers.

A relieved Moira.

And a man he should know . . .

 _You were with Trask._

. . . from the previous Erik's-involved-in-some-bad-shit adventure.

And a sonic blast . . .

 _Banshee?_

. . . right before everything went black.

And now . . .

 _Why am I in an octogonal cylinder of green light?_

With Moira. Peter.

And Raven as Raven.

And himself as . . .

 _Hey, Raven, I'm blue again. Happy now?_

. . . apparently not someone . . .

"Whoa! What's wrong with you?! Is that going to happen to all of us?"

. . . to wake up next to.

"No, I just . . ."

 _Chill out, Peter. And good job with the retrograde amnesia there, Charles. Jeez, it's like Logan the Wolverine all over again._

". . . left my meds at the house."

 _Wasn't expecting to be attacked and kidnapped today. Silly me._

Stryker . . .

 _Oh good, he's a colonel now. Even more authority to kill us. Great._

. . . above them, menacing and powerful.

Raven did her thing.

Talked big.

Moira did her thing.

Played the CIA card.

And Stryker did his thing.

Made impossible ultimatums.

And left.

Because he, unlike them, was not trapped by an electrical cage of death.

But past that, Hank just had one overriding question.

"Um, Moira . . ."

 _Chuck never tells me anything._

* * *

 _Oh man. We are so screwed._

So according to Moira, the big blue guy was some super mutant that was planning to take over the world.

 _How does that differ from Erik?_

Because Erik was his pawn. And this guy was the first, the most powerful, drawing his powers from other mutants.

Like an ability sucking mutant Dracula.

 _Oh. We really_ are _screwed._

Which didn't seem nearly as important to Peter as . . .

"You know him? Magneto?"

 _Oh yay. This story again._

"I used to. Not so sure anymore."

 _Understatement of the year._

"What was he like? Was he like they said he was? The bad guy?"

 _Oh yes, please tell Peter all about it, Raven._

"No. I mean, yes . . ."

 _Complicated, isn't it?_

And then, because he was apparently annoying her with his questions and didn't wouldn't be shooed away like a fly . . .

"Why do you care so much? See his speech on TV or something?"

 _Oh no, Raven, he's not just a fan . . ._

"He's my father."

 _Yep, Darth Vader and Luke Skywalker all over again. You know, Star Wars?_

Apparently she did not.

"What?!"

 _What, you didn't think you were Erik's one and only true love, did you?_

But Peter could always be counted on.

"See, he and my mom, they-"

Hank tuned out the no doubt riveting conversation, unable to take anymore gentle sobbing over the long lost Erik who always seemed to cause trouble no matter where he went.

And tried to inspect their entrapment for weaknesses.

Though he already knew Stryker would have left none.

He didn't get very far.

 _Hear me, inhabitants of this world . . ._

 _Charles? What the hell?_

 _". . . this is message to every man, woman, and mutant . . ._

 _Oh this is bad._

Reckoning . . .

Fall of man . . .

Rise of mutants . . .

 _This is very, very bad._

. . . to . . .

 _Reign supreme, yes, we know._

 _. . . protect those without."_

 _?!_

Charles.

He was still fighting the good fight, still defying.

Still believing.

 _Oh boy, I bet that pissed the En Sabah What's-His-Name off._

It sure did Stryker.

Storming back.

Demanding to know where Charles was.

But of course they still . . .

"Don't know, bro!"

. . . couldn't tell him.

And they were still stuck.

And then the emergency alarms and lights went crazy.

And Hank McCoy saw the first real flash of fear flash through Stryker's eyes.

Scattered gunfire and terrified screams added to the growing fray.

And from the security screens . . .

 _Pretty dumb to position them in view of the prisoners . . ._

. . . Hank caught a glimpse of . . .

 _Logan?_

. . . a brutal, merciless, feral hacking and slashing his way through hallway full of guards.

As the screams started dying away, Hank noticed a slower moving shadow a floor above them.

And as it stepped into the light, they all beheld . . .

 _Kurt?_

Who after a brief game of charades, turned on the intercom.

Told them to get away from the door.

Attempted to count to three.

And Scott Summers blew the door right off the hinges.

And that's how they escaped their electric cage of death . . .

"Ah, jeez!"

"Sorry!"

. . . without much further issue.

* * *

It wasn't his Blackbird.

But it was beautiful.

"Hey, Hank, think you can fly this thing?"

 _Woman, please._

But he was cool. He was okay. Finally in his element.

"Yeah, I think I can figure it out."

And Scott had found . . .

"Hey, guys. Flight suits."

 _Well, that's just serendipitous right there. Never gonna fit my feet though._

Raven seemed gunho.

"You got your warplane . . ."

 _I didn't ask for a warplane. When did I ask for a warplane? Oh, right._

". . . let's go to war."

 _Okay. Gonna suit up, then? No? Come on, 'mutant and proud'. No? Now who's the party pooper?_

So they went.

* * *

"Were you scared that day in D.C.?"

Moira was copiloting the plane so Hank had time to be a secondary unit.

And hear Jean Grey's tentative attempt to reach out to her superior.

"No."

Which didn't get very far.

 _Way to connect there, Raven. She's just looking for some reassurance from her idol._

Silence reigned for a moment, in which Raven apparently used to dig down inside herself and find a part of her that could still afford to give a damn about others.

"But I was on my first mission."

 _Ah, yes, the Sebastian Shaw Experience._

 _I showed up blue and ashamed._

 _You showed up smelling like Erik._

"I was about your age."

 _Hang on. Eight years old when you met Charles in 1945. Fast forward to 1962. What kind of math are you using here . . ._

"Your brother was there," Raven offered to Scott. "We used to call him Havoc . . ."

 _Yeah, I called him Ring of Fire in my head. I hated him back then._

 _But I still wouldn't let him die if I could help it. Not then. Not now._

And curious Kurt's turn.

"What happened to the other kids who were with you?"

 _Sean disappeared eventually._

 _Angel ran off with Erik._

 _Just like you, Raven._

"Hank and I are the only ones left. I couldn't save them."

For the first time in a long time, Hank heard emotion in his fellow mutant's voice.

Just a touch.

But it was there.

Regret. Remorse.

"I told you. I'm not a hero."

But they, the new fledgling X-Men, would not be deterred.

"You're a hero to us."

And Hank listened to them pour out their hearts.

Lift her up.

When she had never asked for it at all.

He wasn't sure she deserved it.

But he knew they were good enough to give it.

And he was glad.

Whether she wanted to be or not, Raven was the poster child for the mutants.

The one they thought of synonymously with 'hero'.

She stood for all of them.

Beautiful. Powerful. In control. In charge.

She was the one they wanted to be like.

She was the one they admired.

And there was nothing she could do about it.

 _Welcome, Raven Darkholme, Mystique, whatever. 'This is your life'._

* * *

 **Thanks to brigid1318 and Muggleborn92, you're so kind to review this everyday! :)**


	11. In the Swirling Vortex of Doom

I do not own X-Men Apocalypse.

But I'm giving this a whirl.

X-Men: Age of WTF

What Happened In the Swirling Vortex of Doom

* * *

 _We're_ , _uh, we're approaching the swirling vortex of doom._

Heavy and thick in the sky. Clouds so dark they almost seemed like solid walls of billowing stone.

And then they flew right through it.

And as big and bad as Beast-mode Hank McCoy was, he felt his heart take up residence in his throat.

Until they emerged in one piece out the other side.

And beheld . . .

"Seventh wonder, twelve o'clock."

The Great Pyramids.

Ancient and stalwart and forbidding.

Plus . . .

 _Think I missed the construction of that one on the Daily News._

. . . one Hank was one hundred percent sure hadn't been there before.

Along with a whole lot of crap orbiting around the entire perimeter.

Raven popped up behind him, staring over his shoulder.

 _I'm open to suggestions._

She didn't have any right then.

 _Thanks, you've been helpful._

But Jean did.

"He has the professor in the center of the pyramid," she reported tremulously.

"He's going to transfer his consciousness into him. If he does that, he'll have the power to control every mind in the world."

 _?!_

Even mental thought failed him for the moment.

The implications of such absolute control were unfathomable.

 _Oh my stars and garters._

* * *

Once on the ground, the kids were having hesitations, doubts.

About launching an attack against the most powerful mutant ever.

It was understandable.

To him.

"What?"

Raven, on the other hand, seemed to have slightly less patience.

As in none.

Hank didn't really blame her.

 _End of the world thing, guys. Come on._

But . . .

"Not all of us can fully control our powers."

Scott, looking to Jean for support. Maybe reassurance.

And it was Raven who answered.

"Then _don't_. You need to embrace them. We all do."

 _Big words, Raven. Care to lead by example?_

And then she did.

Morphing.

Back into blue.

Her natural form.

The form she had once been ashamed of.

Then loved.

Then hidden away again.

For whatever reason she hadn't bothered to confide in Hank.

 _Nothing new there. And I don't care._

And now.

 _Hello, Raven. Mystique. Whatever._

He smiled, temporarily forgiving all the crap that stood between them.

Proud of her for finally stepping up.

For motivating the kids. Being their leader.

Being real.

And then, she and Peter disappeared in a disturbance of air that couldn't even compare to what was going on around them.

Hank looked at the others.

 _Who wants to go probably die? I mean, kick some ass._

* * *

He felt he was doing okay against The Teenage Weather Girl of Death.

 _Just hammerthrew a car. Not bad._

And then some hot chick in a one piece swimsuit jumped down out of the sky.

 _Oh and she's got samurai swords, great._

But he went for it nevertheless.

All out brawl.

Complete with debris flinging.

Beast gymnastics.

And energy ropes. Whips. Lassos.

Or something.

 _Fantastic, Wonder Woman._

Which she first attacked, then strangled him with.

Smirking and dragging him along the ground like some prisoner of war.

At least until he managed to kick her in the face and then fling her and her damn strangle cords away.

Only to follow after her and continue the fight.

 _That's me, always chase after the hot, crazy psychopaths._

Narrowly avoiding getting whipped, literally.

By Kurt bampfing him into the stolen jet.

 _Heywhoawhereokay-_

And they took off after Raven and Peter.

He thought they might actually make it.

Until the crazy swimsuit chick started cutting up their jet with her energy swords.

 _Dammit, woman, would you stop that?! We've only got the one plane!_

And with Kurt's help, abandoned ship.

The strain of which rendered him unconscious.

Poor Kurt, whom Hank finally felt a heavy emotion for.

Concern.

All this time, he had tried to steer clear as politely possible of the blue skinned son of Raven.

But now he took a long moment to hover the boy.

 _It's okay, it's okay, you're tough, you're okay-_

Charles Xavier, on the other hand, was not okay.

En Sabah Nur had done quite a number on him.

Screaming and flailing.

And bald.

 _Oh he's gonna be pissed about that._

 _"Don't touch my hair."_

 _He loved his hair._

If they all lived to not become mindless drones for the world's first mutant.

 _So I guess not really too important in the scheme of things._

Because just as they were getting the injured Charles and the weakened Kurt settled, desperately trying to come up with a new plan of . . .

 _Attack. Survival._

. . . something, they heard it.

"Charles!"

The voice of the first mutant.

Heavy and thick and full with all of the mutants he had ever absorbed the powers and lifeforces of.

"Show yourself!"

And it was alot.

"Charles!"

So, so many.

"Show yourself!"

And Charles Xavier did not.

But someone else did.

When the screams of pain started and Charles murmured the name, Hank went cold.

 _Oh no. Peter._

And then another.

 _Raven._

She was . . . dying.

And Hank . . .

 _I have had enough of this._

. . . was done hiding.

"I'm going out there," he announced flatly.

Alex Summers' brother rose along with him.

"I'm going with you."

 _Probably gonna die. Come on then._

The psychologically crushed Charles tried to rise and surrender himself.

Which Moira . . .

"If he has you, he has us all. The whole world."

. . . shot down immediately.

And right before Charles Xavier cracked entirely . . .

"There is still some part of me connected to him."

. . . he came up with a plan.

"Thank you for letting me in."

* * *

The game of hide and seek had been over, their location revealed.

Raven limp on the ground and Peter incapacitated in some way.

All seemed remarkably dark and hopeless.

When Erik the Magneto showed up.

Or rather, his metal.

Throwing tons of it at his former master. Only to have it incinerated in flame mere inches from him.

With his attention distracted away, Hank knew it might be their only chance.

"Let's jump!"

He and Scott did, down two stories to land amid the concrete and stone rubble of what once was buildings and shops.

He rushed over and picked up a semi-conscious Raven.

"I got you!"

Wretched the freaked-out Peter free.

And got them out of immediate line of fire, so to speak.

As Scott unleashed the full force of his optic beams upon their seemingly impenetrable enemy.

And Hank launched himself at the first mutant, roaring.

Only to get himself backhanded into a wreck of a car.

 _Whoa, deja-_

And dropped out of the world.

* * *

Jean Grey had exploded.

Well, not technically.

And not in the boy-she-is-so-mad-what-the-hell-do-I-do-now way.

But in a much more awe-inspiring way.

She had walked out into thin air, hovering above the melee of battle ravaged mutants attacking En Sabah Not Gonna Give Up and Die.

With Charles Xavier near death and evil winning, Jean Grey had reached into the depths of her mind.

Opened a door to a dark, windowless room containing her true power.

And unleashed the Phoenix Force upon the one who sought to enslave and destroy them.

A sourceless flame engulfed her, not burning, not searing.

But enveloping her in a protective aura.

Whilst throwing fiery destruction down upon her enemy.

It was incredible, it was amazing.

It was utterly terrifying.

The rest of them had damaged him but with his millenias of acquired abilities, he hung on and regenerated and fought back.

Even almost escaping through a teleportation portal.

Before being stopped.

And now, with a inhuman scream emanating from her throat, Jean Elaine Grey vaporized En Sabah Nur into a nothing more than dust on the wind.

And Hank realized . . .

 _Oh dear science-_

. . . that she might just be the most dangerous mutant on the face of the planet.

And watched as she slowly, so as to not overload her system, slowly closed the door within her once again.

And let the power disapate and fade away from her.

As she relinquished her unearthly visage and become once more Jean Grey, she floated backward.

Back into the room where the now unresponsive Professor X lay upon a dusty, dirty Persian rug.

Hank grabbed Scott and they leapt back into the building they'd come from.

And beheld Charles.

 _Oh no. Oh please, no._

Hank rushed to him.

"He's gone!" cried an anguished Moira.

"No, he's not," Jean assured quietly. "I can still feel him."

Then she, quietly and gently, moved forward.

Touched the man's face. Brought him back.

"Thank you, Jean."

And Hank was relieved.

 _Oh thank science, Charles. I don't want to run that school all by myself._

Moira was leaning over Charles now, distraught and relieved and bewildered all at the same time.

"Charles? Charles, do you know where you are?"

His response was quietly disturbing.

"I'm on a beach . . ."

 _Um, no-_

 _". . ._ in Cuba . . ."

 _Charles, you're freaking me out here._

". . . with you."

 _Oh._

And then Charles Xavier put a gentle hand to Moira McTaggert's head.

And returned all her memories to her in one fell swoop.

The things just beyond her reach, the sights and sounds hovering just off the edges of her synapses.

Those hidden thoughts and feelings that had shaped her life for better or worse. Sometimes feeling as though she were slowly going mad.

"I'm sorry," Charles apologized tenderly. "I should have never taken those from you."

Tears fell and emotions swirled as she and Charles gazed into each other's eyes.

 _Should we, uh, maybe leave you two alone?_

But thankfully . . .

"Hold on!"

. . . Kurt broke the tension by suddenly and with great enthusiasm, regaining consciousness.

And then looked around at the gathered mutants and their unfamiliar environment in confusion.

"What did I miss?"

 _Oh, nothing much. Almost the end of the world._

* * *

 **Thanks to brigid1318 and Muggleborn92 for reviewing!**

 **Three more chapters to go and they're mostly made up by me.**

 **So we'll see how that goes. ;)**


	12. Regrouping and Moving On

I do not own X-Men Apocalypse.

But I'm giving this a whirl.

X-Men: Age of WTF

Regrouping and Moving On

* * *

They, collectively, had fought the world's oldest mutant.

And the Teenage Weather Girl of Death.

And Ms. Oddly Cut Swimsuit.

And Devil Dude with Metal Angel Wings.

And not died.

And now they were heading home.

The Teenage Weather Girl of Death, who had suddenly changed allegiance . . .

"He tried kill her. She's one of us and he was just going to kill her."

. . . had timidly introduced herself as Ororo Monroe.

And fumblingly apologized for trying to kill them all.

 _No big deal. I guess. I'll be sore in the morning._

She had consented to let Charles search her mind for untruths, underlying motives, and dangers to their band of mutants.

According to Charles, he had only found 'a child who needs to be accepted for who she is and given a safe haven'.

 _Alright then, Professor. If you say so. But I want snow for Christmas. And a nap._

So they brought her with them.

Along with. . .

 _This place is getting a little crowded, don't you think?_

. . . Erik Lensherr.

* * *

Hank wouldn't have minded time to decompress after such a harrowing experience as they had all faced.

But, at least in Charles' weakened and terrorized mind, there were more important issues to address.

"Hank, I believe it's time we revisit our discussion of the Danger Room."

 _What discussion? As I recall, your answer was a flatout 'no'._

"Okay."

The plane they had procured was soaring smoothly through the still air.

Toward home.

Or rather, the blown apart ground zero pit that had once been their home.

"In light of recent events . . ."

 _You being possessed by an ancient mutant and struck bald?_

 _Everyone on the planet almost being enslaved?_

 _General worldwide destruction and chaos?_

". . .I think perhaps we should begin . . ."

 _Yes?_

". . . a more advanced training of a few of our students."

 _Oh gee, good idea. Wish I'd thought of it._

"Namely Scott, Kurt, and Jean. Peter. Perhaps Aurora as well."

 _So just the ones who saved our skins._

"And I want you and Raven to train them."

 _What? Uh, no._

"They are among the strongest and are already battle-tested-"

 _I don't want to._

". . . and most mature."

 _Yeah, 'cause Banshee was very mature. Listen, I don't want to-_

"When do you think you can have the room up and running?"

Hank shrugged.

 _One little problem there, Professor._

"What about the school?"

Charles smiled, eyes flicking to the seats of exhausted mutants to his left.

"Oh, I don't think that should be much of a problem."

* * *

They retrieved the children and adults from the emergency bunker hidden safe in the woods.

There was alot of relief.

And well as confusion, curiosity.

And excitement.

"Professor, you're back!"

"And bald."

"Shh!"

"What?"

"I don't think he _meant_ to come back bald."

"Well, nobody with hair like that _means_ to-"

"Shh!"

"It's okay, Jubilee. No, Timothy, I did not intend for this to happen. I'm just relieved that all of you are safe."

"So . . ."

"Yes?"

". . . what _did_ happen to your hair?"

"Tim!"

* * *

The world was still broken.

The humans were still in a disarray.

The mutants were still scared and confused and in hiding.

But some things were different.

Erik Lensherr was peaceful once more. Helping Jean . . .

 _Can I have a bigger lab? Just an entire wing should be sufficient._

. . . rebuild Xavier Manor.

Scott Summers had even better ruby quartzed eyewear, capable of adjusting the strength of his laser beams to appropriate levels as the situation called for.

Courtesy of Dr. Hank McCoy, Super Genius.

Who currently remained blue and furry on account of all of his serum and equipment and sundries being destroyed in the explosion.

Part of him was itching, metaphorically, to get back to human mode.

And part of him felt rather free.

Peter the Quicksilver was substantially slowed down by his broken leg.

"God, is this how everyone lives?" he'd grumble every so often. "So _slow_?"

 _Hey, Peter, wanna play tag now?_

Aurora was in the process of being accepted.

As finally, after hearing the heroic stories, was Jean.

And everyone was dutifully pretending not to stare at the Professor's unbelievably shiny dome.

 _Not a strand left. Wow._

* * *

"Oh my gosh, you're so exotic looking! What's your name?"

Stunned silence. And then, warily . . .

"Ororo."

Big, warm smile from Xavier's self-assigned welcome wagon.

"I'm Jubilee! What's your super power?"

The reserved Egyptian girl cast her eyes down, as if ashamed.

"Oh, well, I don't think I'm supposed to-"

Adamant exhalation of breath.

"No, really, it's okay! We're _supposed_ to practice using our powers so we can control them! Come on!"

Then the beaming little Asian American sprite grabbed the newcomer's hand and pulled her outside.

Far out onto the freshly reconstructed lawn.

"Okay. Minimum safe distance achieved. Now, what can you do?"

The dark skinned, lanky mutant shuffled uncomfortably.

"I can . . . I can . . . affect atmospheric conditions."

Jubilee grinned excitedly.

"Cool! Show me!"

Ororo surreptitiously glanced around. The area was dotted with mutant children, basking in the warm, sunny day.

Jubilee patted her arm.

"It's okay, really! Watch!"

And she shot a rainbow shower of sparks into the air a few feet from them.

Aurora gasped and looked around quickly.

Nobody seemed perturbed or frightened in the least.

"Well, go ahead!"

Ororo drew a deep breath.

And focused on the pile of leaves under a nearby tree.

They fluttered, rustled.

And slowly, as she waved her hands in circular patterns, rose and began spinning.

Faster and faster until there was a tornado of leaves rotating ten feet into the air.

The mutant children on the lawn had stopped to watch the display, mouths hanging open.

"Don't stop," Jubilee directed with confidence. "And watch this!"

Stretching out her hands, Jubilee sent multicolored energy plasmoids out to intermingle with the leaf tornado.

They twirled and spiraled and spun.

And when Ororo and Jubilee released their energies and let the spectacle fade away, the smaller turned to the taller.

With an even bigger grin.

"I've got a _great_ idea!"

* * *

 **Figured the wind thing would be less destructive and scary than other displays. Especially since Jubilee was going to throw her plasmoids into the mix.**

 **Thanks to brigid1318 and Muggleborn92 for staying with me this entire story. Wow!**


	13. In Lieu of a Good Night's Sleep

I do not own X-Men Apocalypse.

But I'm giving this a whirl.

X-Men: Age of WTF

In Lieu of a Good Night's Sleep

* * *

He was warm, he was content, he was safe.

In his own bed, in his own room, in the newly rebuilt Xavier Manor.

Newly refurbished.

Newly inhabited.

And it was nice.

Quiet and nice.

He was right on the edge of sleep, drifting lazily here and there.

Alone and untethered.

Then the mattress dipped to reveal he was not alone.

And he drowsily stirred, opening his eyes.

Through the dim light in the room, he saw the outline of the figure.

The decidedly curvy _woman's_ figure.

It was her.

Inexplicably her.

After all this time, her.

She was back.

 _But how?_

"Hope," Hank murmured as she she slipped under the covers and reached for him. "What's going on? How are you here?"

Their bodies met in the middle of the bed and Hank was finally reunited with the love of his life.

She smiled her beautiful smile and said nothing.

Only stroked his face.

Kissed his lips.

And drew him into her embrace, her soft fingers floating like silk over his chest as she slipped her hands up under his shirt.

His own hungry fingers moved over her skimpie nightie, relishing in the curves he had missed for so long.

Her nightie.

Which was weird because his Hope had been more of a tshirt and panties kinda woman on most occasions.

And he had teased her that she never had time to keep them on for long anyway.

And that she was alluring and sexy in anything she wore.

But she was here now and he really didn't care what she was wearing.

"Hope," he whispered, his lips brushing over her warm skin. "Is this real? Are you really here?"

He could feel her gentle smile again, as she answered softly.

"No, Hank. I'm not. This is a dream. But don't worry about that now. Just be with me. I've missed you."

He had been alone so long.

So very, very long.

"I've missed you," he murmured into the soft succulent flesh of her neck. "I've missed you so much, Hope. I love you."

Her surreshing breath to his ear made him shiver.

"I love you too, Hank."

He had heard her voice echoing in his head so many times.

These words and others.

But to hear them outside head, out in the air, made his heart ache so much he thought he would crack wide open.

He lost himself in her kisses, in her quiet cries of pleasure as he lavished love upon her body.

He relished in her . . . touch.

Her? touch.

Wasn't right.

It wasn't that it didn't feel good.

It did.

It felt amazing.

After so long alone, his body and mind ached and yearned for the kisses and caresses she was freely giving.

But they were wrong.

As if his Hope had forgotten how to touch him.

Or it wasn't Hope at all.

Hank broke her embrace, lurching up abruptly.

She rose with him, reaching out again to draw him close,

But Hank grabbed her shoulders and held her back at arm's length.

Her gaze was innocent, quizzical.

Half undressed, her body calling to him.

His body calling to her.

But his mind at complete and utter stop.

He spoke with a flat and definite tone.

"You're not Hope."

The beautiful visage of his dead wife smiled lovingly.

"It's okay, Hank. It's okay."

He growled, shoved her away suddenly, sent her tumbling off the bed in surprise . . .

"Raven!"

. . . her blue form rippling from Hope's creamy skinned one as she caught herself and landed on her feet.

"What the hell are you _doing_?!"

He morphed as he roared, rippling from Hank to Beast as his voice shook the room.

Raven flinched, then regained her defiant poise.

"I was trying to make you feel better! I asked Charles where your girlfriend-"

"Wife! She was my _wife_!"

"-was and he said that Heather-"

He spat the words out.

"Hope! Her name was Hope!"

"-died and that's why you were so mopey-"

"That's _none_ of your business!"

He leapt at her then, pinning her painfully against the wall.

She, of course, was never and had never been worried about him as an opponent.

"Let go of me, Hank! I was just trying to make you feel better!"

He growled, deep and dangerous.

"By lying to me?! Having sex with me?! Pretending to be my _wife_?!"

Raven recoiled momentarily at his rage then shot back.

"I'm sorry, okay? I just wanted-"

Hank eyes nearly glowed.

"No! You don't get to _be_ her! You don't get to _look_ like her, or _sound_ like her, or _smell_ like her! You don't get to _feel_ like her or _taste_ like her . . ."

He paused, fighting the urge to tear out her throat with his teeth.

Rip her apart with his claws.

His voice was low and final.

" **You're. Not. Hope**."

And then, Hank McCoy summoned all his willpower.

And let the mutant with the scaly blue skin go.

He turned away, trying to will his body into a calmer state.

After a moment, he heard her speak again.

"How did you know I wasn't her?"

 _Stupid question._

"You don't touch me like Hope did. You can't. You don't know how. You're not her."

When she spoke again her voice was quiet, remorseful.

"Hank-"

"Get out," he commanded coldly. "Never come to my room again."

After a moment, he heard the door open and close softly behind him.

Then Hank McCoy sat on the edge of the bed with his head hung and his hands tangled in his mop of blue hair.

He stayed that way for a long time.

* * *

 **No, they did not actually have sex. Close, but Hank figured it out first. Just in case you're wondering.**

 **Alright, so come at me, bro, what do you think?**

 **And while I'm at it, thanks to brigid1318 and Muggleborn92 for reviewing and DinahRay for attempting to review.**

 **Last chapter tomorrow. Wrapping up the movie and a little extra from my brain.**


	14. Break My Stride

I do not own X-Men Apocalypse.

But I'm giving this a whirl.

X-Men: Age of WTF

Break My Stride

* * *

"Charles? I need to talk to you about the Danger Room."

Once again, in the study.

Daytime. Warm sunlight filtering in through the windows.

Newly refurbished along with the rest of the manor.

And Charles Xavier, calm and unperturbed by anything at all.

"Yes, Hank, is there a problem?"

Hank McCoy stood rigidly, arms crossed in front of him.

"Why do you want Raven to train the students?"

Charles barely gave him a look, as if this were obvious.

"She has the most combat expertise."

Hank gritted his teeth.

"She doesn't understand their abilities as well as you do. You should train them."

Charles continued perusing the papers on his desk.

"They look up to her, Hank. She motivates them beyond anything a simple professor in a wheelchair-"

"I don't want to train the students with her, Charles."

Charles Xavier finally looked up to see his friend in barely contained distress.

"Hank, what's wrong?"

Hank set his jaw.

"I don't want to train them with her. I could teach you how to run the Danger Room-"

Real concern colored the telepath's face as he rolled closer to Hank.

Hank McCoy did not freely offer up his toys to anyone.

"Hank, what is going on?"

Hank turned away.

"Nothing. I . . . I just don't want to work with her."

Charles frowned.

"Hank, we need you. Now more than ever. Has something happened between you and Raven?"

Hank shuffled, furious and ashamed.

 _I am not telling him. I am not telling anyone. Ever._

Charles softened then.

"Hank, is this about Hope?"

Hank didn't answer. He couldn't.

And he didn't look at Charles Xavier.

"Hank, much time has passed. I'm sorry to say, but Hope is gone. If you want to be with Raven and she with you-"

"No!" Hank snapped out venomously. "I don't, that's just the point! I don't want to have anything to do with her!"

Charles' eyes darkened and he gazed intently at the usually gentle Hank McCoy, as if trying to surmise the problem at hand.

But respectfully stayed out of his mind.

"Hank, whatever happened between you, I'm sorry for it. I really am. But we need these children prepared to defend themselves and others. I need you and Raven to do this. Please."

Hank McCoy was a man in control of himself.

He controlled his breathing.

He controlled his heart rate, slowing it from the increasingly erratic pace it had picked up since the start of this hellish conversation.

And he controlled his tongue.

"Thank you for your time, Professor."

Then he controlled his feet.

Using them to turn and carry him out of the room.

Down the hall.

Up the stairs.

And to his room.

Where he locked the door.

And did not answer to anyone.

* * *

So against Hank's fervent wishes, Raven was staying.

To motivate the children.

"Forget everything you think you know."

And train the newest batch of X-Men.

Hank McCoy was not pleased.

But he was managing as best he could.

Mostly with lethal levels of his trademark stoicism . . .

 _I feel nothing. I am here to do a job. Focus. Focus on the training._

. . . and an enduringly sarcastic sense of humor.

"Whatever lessons you learned in school . . ."

 _Well I don't know about that, but_ _my lessons were pretty good._

"Whatever your parents taught you . . ."

 _Except of course, driving a car, or tying your shoes or something, that's imperative to keep. . ._

"None of that matters."

 _That seems a little excessive._

"You're not kids anymore!"

 _Chronologically speaking-_

"You're not students."

 _Well, they haven't finished my chem lab yet._

"You're X-Men."

 _Whose homework is due on Thursday._

Then she looked over at Hank for the go ahead.

 _Don't look at me, please, thank you._

And he powered up . . .

 _If we don't die first._

. . . the Danger Room.

* * *

The night sky above Xavier Manor was dark and full of stars.

And, below the tree line, swirling, twirling, spinning multicolored energy plasmoids.

The ground below was dotted with oohing and ahhhing mutant children.

A very happy and self-satisfied pair of females.

"I told you this was a great idea!" Jubilee triumphantly crowed to her cohort.

Who simply smiled for the first time in a long time.

In the background, unseen by nearly everyone, a nervous, ruby quartzed Scott Summers.

Stole his very first kiss from a blushing Jean Grey.

Charles Xavier, holding the hand of the only non-mutant present, glanced over at Moira McTaggert's face awash with a kaleidoscope of light.

And was very glad she was there.

Raven, somewhere in the crowd, far away from Hank.

Just as he preferred it. Honestly and with no internal convincing now.

Erik Lensherr, inexplicably missing.

Because of course, he could never stay long anywhere probing eyes might see into the dark of him.

Hank McCoy, standing alone, managed a small smile.

 _Okay. We can handle this. We can make this work._

 _I think._

And Kurt Wagner, the blue skinned teleporting teenage boy with absolutely no chill at all, bampfed to the side of Ororo Monroe.

"You're amazing!" he exclaimed, his face aglow with excitement and multicolored lights.

And pecked a kiss on her cheek.

She gasped, turning her shocked face to his enthusiastic pointy toothed smile.

Then over to an equally shocked Jubilee.

And back to the eager and earnest Kurt.

"Do you want to go to the mall with me?"

The girl looked confused.

"The what?"

Jubilee rang out a musical laugh before returning her attention to their current project.

"Welcome to the new and improved Xavier's! " called Jubilation Lee to the gathered mutants.

Who clapped and hooted in appreciation.

 _Might need to get a handle on Kurt there though._

* * *

 **And that's the end of my latest installment of 'As the Hank Turns'. I mean, X-Men. ;)**

 **Hope you enjoyed it and yeah, I know there's always more to explore and tell. We might get to it sometime.**

 **Thanks to brigid1318 and Muggleborn92 for regularly reviewing. And thanks to all the silent readers as well.**

 **See you again sometime! :)**


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